Angels seated at the feet of the Madonna and playing on musical instruments, are most lovely and appropriate accessories, for the choral angels are always around her in heaven, and on earth she is the especial patroness of music and minstrelsy.[1] Her delegate Cecilia patronized sacred music; but all music and musicians, all minstrels, and all who plied the “gaye science,” were under the protection of Mary.  When the angels are singing from their music books, and others are accompanying them with lutes and viols, the song is not always supposed to be the same.  In a Nativity they sing the “Gloria in excelsis Deo;” in a Coronation, the “Regina Coeli;” in an enthroned Madonna with votaries, the “Salve Regina, Mater Misericordiae!” in a pastoral Madonna and Child it may be the “Alma Mater Redemptoris.”

[Footnote 1:  The picture by Lo Spagna, lately added to our National Gallery, is a beautiful example.]

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In all the most ancient devotional effigies (those in the catacombs and the old mosaics), the Virgin appears as a majestic woman of mature age.  In those subjects taken from her history which precede her return from Egypt, and in the Holy Families, she should appear as a young maiden from fifteen to seventeen years old.

In the subjects taken from her history which follow the baptism of our Lord, she should appear as a matron between forty and fifty, but still of a sweet and gracious aspect.  When Michael Angelo was reproached with representing his Mater Dolorosa much too young, he replied that the perfect virtue and serenity of the character of Mary would have preserved her beauty and youthful appearance long beyond the usual period.[1]

[Footnote 1:  The group in St. Peter’s, Rome.]

Because some of the Greek pictures and carved images had become black through extreme age, it was argued by certain devout writers, that the Virgin herself must have been of a very dark complexion; and in favour of this idea they quoted this text from the Canticles, “I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem.”  But others say that her complexion had become black only during her sojourn in Egypt.  At all events, though the blackness of these antique images was supposed to enhance their sanctity, it has never been imitated in the fine arts, and it is quite contrary to the description of Nicephorus, which is the most ancient authority, and that which is followed in the Greek school.

The proper dress of the Virgin is a close red tunic, with long sleeves;[1] and over this a blue robe or mantle.  In the early pictures, the colours are pale and delicate.  Her head ought to be veiled.  The fathers of the primeval Church, particularly Tertullian, attach great importance to the decent veil worn by Christian maidens; and in all the early pictures the Virgin is veiled.  The enthroned Virgin, unveiled, with long tresses falling down on either side, was an innovation introduced about the end of the fifteenth century; commencing, I think, with the Milanese, and thence adopted in the German schools and those of Northern Italy.  The German Madonnas of Albert Durer’s time have often magnificent and luxuriant hair, curling in ringlets, or descending to the waist in rich waves, and always fair.  Dark-haired Madonnas appear first in the Spanish and later Italian schools.